


The Definition of Insanity

by Sweetsyren



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death...might, Gen, God Ships It, M/M, Vague references to Dean/Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetsyren/pseuds/Sweetsyren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a reason Castiel keeps getting resurrected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Definition of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny ficlet based of an idea from baby-in-a-trenchcoat over at Tumblr. The original post is [here.](http://baby-in-trenchcoat.tumblr.com/post/21019100681)  
> Short and sweet. And hopefully funny.

“Again? Really?” Chuck…God…Chuck (He didn’t really know anymore.  He did like the dressing gown though so he was going with Chuck for the time being.  Besides, calling yourself God in your own internal monologue was more than a little arrogant…even if it was true.)  sighed deeply as he reached across the cosmos for the atoms that made up his favourite, and yet most terminally accident prone offspring. 

Death didn’t look up from his paper but he did wave the hot-dog he was eating in Chuck’s general direction.  “It’s your plan.”

Chuck huffed and ran his fingers through the Crab Nebula looking for the stray molecules of Castiel’s hairline.  “Nope.  No.  Not my plan anymore.  My plan didn’t involve this much exploding.  The Winchesters and Cas threw _my_ plan all out of whack ages ago.  It’s not even a plan anymore.  It’s a mess.  Just a big ball of messy…mess.”  Not his best finish, he knew, but he could be forgiven for giving up descriptors in favour of getting Castiel’s vocal cords set to the right pitch.  The voice was an important part of this whole thing. 

“Maybe you should just talk to him instead of waiting for him to catch on.  He’s clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed.”  Death said crunching a few chips.

“Hey!  He’s smart!  He got the whole free will thing when none of the others did, didn’t he?”  Chuck said testily.

Death raised an eyebrow. “And that worked so well that I’ve just collected him after his brother exploded him.  Again.”

Chuck sighed.  “Lucifer was always so touchy.  I thought a time out might help him but…” He waved a hand and fine hairs slipped into place in the skin of Castiel’s forearms. 

A straw rattled around the bottom of a Big Gulp for a second.  “Yes.  Who would have guessed being thrown out of his home and cast into perdition would have made him react so badly?” 

“Alright, alright! I know, okay?  I was going through a rough patch.  The humans weren’t doing so well and Michael was moping _all the time_.  I was overwhelmed.  I made a bad decision.  I admit it.  He didn’t have to take it out on…well everyone really, but especially not Cas. ” He was being a little dramatic, he knew, but it was the principle of the thing. “Cas was just trying to help Dean save his brother...And the world.”

“Yes,” Death said darkly, “Dean.”

Chuck grinned as he sealed up Castiel’s ribcage and smoothed the skin down over the planes of the angels stomach, “Yeah.  _Dean._ Don’t pretend you don’t like him. Breaking your own rules and giving him that ring.”

Death lifted his chin.  “I was just saving myself the lecture you’d give me if I hadn’t.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”  Chuck averted his eyes as the whole crotch area formed itself, making sure the blood vessels branching out underneath the skin of Castiel’s thighs were in the proper place.  “At least I admit I want Cas alive and kicking.”

“You and your experiments.” Death sighed but there was amusement underneath.  “One of them said it, didn’t they?  ‘The definition of insanity is doing the same thing again and again and expecting different results.’”

“Look, it’ll happen.  I can feel it.”  Chuck frowned as he formed the tiny bones Castiel’s feet.  Tricky little buggers. “They just need more time.” _And maybe a neon sign_ , he thought to himself. 

Death laughed as if he’d heard the thought, which he had, obviously. “You’ll be bringing them back to life until the stars all burn out of the sky.”

Chuck ignored him and set about pulling Castiel’s clothes out of the firmament. 

Dean and Castiel were meant to be together. _Everyone_ knew it. They just kept messing it up and missing perfectly good opportunities to acknowledge the feelings they had for eachother.

Time.  That’s all they needed.

That, and less dying. 

Chuck nodded, satisfied, as the familiar trenchcoat settled around the angel.

“They’ll get there, you’ll see,” he said, tugging the blue tie so it hung at the perfectly imperfect angle. 

He stepped back and dusted off his hands.  “Alright.  Done and done.”

Death sniffed and looked over the newly formed Castiel.  “The eyes are wrong.  His are blue.  Deans are the green.”

“Always miss something.”  Chucked sighed as he corrected the mistake. “You’ll take him back?” 

“Don’t I always?”  Death replied, the Gate already forming behind him.

Chuck looked over Castiel again, before leaning forward to press a kiss to the angel’s forehead, watching as Castiel’s grace began to glow softly, building slowly until he was one breath away from consciousness.

Death wrapped the angel in his cloak and stepped through the Gate. 

Chuck watched them cross the barrier and smiled softly.

 _This time_ , he thought.  _This time_.


End file.
